


Miami Born

by ReddyHeady5



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged up characters, Drugs, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Probably Some Gore Later On, Recreational Drug Use, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence, basically a story about Miami Rick and Morty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReddyHeady5/pseuds/ReddyHeady5
Summary: It's been 4 years since Morty and Rick left the Smith home to start again in Miami. It might not be the safest life, but running an intergalactic drug cartel hidden inside the hottest strip club in Miami sure has its perks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many things I never thought I would write in a life time... Anyway, enjoy my pretties.  
> Any suggestions are welcome!  
> Below is the link to the music that is mentioned later - if you like to listen and read then please help yourself. 
> 
>  
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2A-Jbo-EaU

The club was loud, bass turned all the way up sending a pulse that could be felt all the way through your toes. Rick stood in his office, looking out the window that revealed the first floor, showing all the patrons dancing, drinking and snorting whatever drugs they could get their hands on. He watched as the strippers and pole dancers slowly trickled out of the customer’s grubby hands, humans and aliens alike, and disappeared into the back to get ready for the main event.

 

He didn’t turn when he heard the door open and shut, knowing only one other person was able to get in and out. “Right there.” He points down towards a customer, sitting at a table right at the front of the stage. No bodyguards or friends sitting with him, this is going to be too easy.

 

Morty stepped up next to Rick, looking to where he was pointing, seeing a man with greasy, slicked back hair and a fitted suit. “What about him?”

 

Rick scoffed, “What about him, _Mor_ ty is-is-is he’s sneaking around! A new face pops up out of nowhere and just hangs around longer than normal? He doesn’t s-s-sit with anyone, he doesn’t get dances. He’s just bidding his fucking-fucking time.” Rick turns and looks at his grandson, seeing the boy has already changed into his stage clothes, make-up and hair meticulously applied to be flawless. “Th-th-that guy, Morty. He’s-he’s made a huge mistake. Nobody comes into this club without being seen! Nobody, Morty!”

 

Morty rolls his eyes as he watches Rick slam a fist onto his desk. “Yeah, I get it, Rick. What do you want to do to the guy?”

 

Rick storms away from the window, harshly opening the cabinet doors that surround the room. “I going to fucking interrogate the guy, Morty. Get-get all the information I can out of the shit stain. Find out who he’s working for.” Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls out a needle and syringe already filled, handing it open palmed to Morty. “That fucker has had this coming, that shit bag.”

 

Morty walks over, grabbing the narcotic before taking off his headband. “Is that all?”

 

Rick watches as the 20 year old ties a hidden piece of fabric around the plunger, tugging to make sure it’s tight. He double checks the cap is on securely before handing the headband to Rick, turning around and holding his hair up. “For now. Just get him asleep and we can plan for the rest after I f-f-fuck-fucking beat the information out of his sorry ass.” Rick carefully slides the needle and syringe into Morty’s bangs, making sure the fabric lays perfectly against his hairline, before tying the ends under the long sun bleach hair.

 

Morty makes his way to a mirror; carefully fingering through his hair to make sure the hidden item wouldn’t show. There are no worries of it falling out, not with how much hairspray he has to use to make his hair stand the way it does. He looks back towards Rick, who has continued his slamming of cabinet doors. Morty swiftly walks over to the liquor cabinet and pulls out Rick’s favorite alien drink before shoving it under Rick’s face. “Oh. My god. _Here_.” Rick roughly snatches the booze before stalking back towards the window, drinking from the bottle as he does.

 

Rick’s phone rings, sending a short, high pitched shrill through the air before Rick slams the speaking on, “What?!” He yells at the console.

 

“Sir,” a nervous voice answers, “It’s-It’s just that the show is ready but we can’t find-find _Dolcé_.” The female breathes heavy into the phone, clearly nervous about Rick’s reaction.

 

“He’s coming.” Rick slams the receiver before looking straight at Morty, clearly indicating for him to go. When Morty just stands there though, he barks out. “What are you waiting for?! Get down there!”

 

But Morty stands his ground, looking straight into Rick’s eyes.

 

Rick glares back, growing extremely agitated before he realizes what’s missing. Rolling his eyes he unlocks a draw to his desk, pulling out what Morty’s waiting for. “What flavor?”

 

Morty walks over, smile on his face, leaning over the desk looking into the drawer. “Cherry.”

 

Rick hands over the kalaxian laced lollipop, locking the drawer before leaning across the desk as well, face to face with the young man. “Don't fucking let me down you spoiled shit.”

 

Morty just smiles, leaning over to whisper into Rick’s ear, “Do I ever?” He presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, before shoving the lollipop in this mouth, smirking before turning and sauntering out the door.

 

Rolling his eyes, Rick turns back towards the window, watching as the lights dim and music fades to nothing before a voice comes through in the speakers, announcing the main event.

 

The crowd falls quiet, waiting in the eerie silence before a psychedelic tune washes throughout the building. The 10 note intro crescendos, leading into a hushed pause, before the bass suddenly drops, lighting up the stage.

 

The crowd suddenly goes wild, screaming and applauding for what they have been waiting for all night. Morty is center stage, back to the crowd, absolutely still until sultry lyrics ooze through the speakers. Rick watches as Morty slowly rolls his head to look behind him, knowing he’s looking at their target. Rolling his body in slow, enticing movements, Morty keeps hypnotizing the crowd, staring right into the rats’ eyes.

 

Rick smirks, knowing exactly what Morty is going to do next. It’s a simple seduction move, slowly reeling the target in with special attention, but damn if it doesn’t work every time. The music is building again; Morty has his legs spread wide, teasing the crowd with a slow hip roll and when the music drops again, Morty drops with it, bending his knees in a wide stance, the background dancers coming to life with him. Morty has his hand holding his lollipop stick, face flushed from heat and drugs, tongue sticking out with the suggestive looking candy lying on his tongue. The crowd goes wild, humans and aliens alike yelling and cheering for the signature move – The Lollipop.

 

Rick’s smirk widens, teeth showing as money is already falling around Morty’s feet. Never looking away from the star, he waits for the sign. He watches as Morty grabs the pole behind him; straightening his body as he follows the movements of the pole in a long, slow circle. It’s when Morty is facing front again that he finally looks away from the prey.

 

Morty has his eyes upward, looking right at Rick through the one sided mirror. With a small smirk around his candy, he winks once before looking away, the interaction happening for only a second.

 

Rick’s smirk widens. There was no doubt that Morty could lure the victim in.

 

“It’s show time.”


	2. Chapter 2

Morty walked off stage the second the music stopped, not even bothering to grab his fur coat or the steady stream of cash being thrown at the front of the stage. The other dancers would grab it, knowing full well they would face Rick’s wrath if he didn’t feel like he got his fair share. Not that Morty even cared about that now; he had more important things to worry about.

 

Morty watched as the man got up just before the show ended, heading to the bodyguard that blocked the hallway with the private rooms. Having only a few minutes to prepare, he swiftly dodged the next dancers and strippers, is mind swaying from the effects of the drug laced candy. He slumped in a chair, taking one deep breath before sitting up straight and looking at the mirror in front of him.

 

No time to touch up his make up, but this would be a short visit so he only brought his hands to his hair, carefully fixing stray strands while inconspicuously checking to make sure the syringe was secure. While a majority of Rick’s workers were humans and aliens that were on Rick’s side, most of the dancers in the back were oblivious to the darker secrets hidden behind the walls of the K Klub, and Morty liked to keep it that way.

 

Seeing a figure approaching him in the mirror, Morty turned in his seat accepting the water from the Female Gazorpian bodyguard. “The man up front paid a high price, where do you want him?” She asked leaning down, carefully wiping sweat from Morty’s exposed body.

 

Morty rolled his eyes. Figures. Too bad he’s not going to receive any amount of treatment except for a needle in his neck. Bummer. Lowering his voice Morty murmured “ Put him in the suite, only X-Class bodyguards.”

 

The Gazorpian kept a straight face, hearing the message loud and clear. “Right away. Ten minutes.” Turning around she left out the door into the quiet halls backstage.

 

Morty stared at himself again, wishing not for the first time that he had another pop. He was going to have to talk to Rick about that. But for now, he took another deep breath, riding the waves of the high, before standing, grabbing a robe, and headed towards the back.

 

The “suite” was the room furthest from the back, hidden by an extra turn down the hallway that lead to the stairs to the top floor. No other dancers ventured this far, and being place conveniently by the stairs, Rick was able to get in and out easy with no person seeing him.

 

Rounding the corner Morty spotted the guard, a rouge galactic federation alien that realized smuggling illegal drug crystals was more beneficial (and fun) than checking people in and our of airports. Not even bothering with conversation, he stepped up to the door, knocking two quick raps before glancing at the alien next to him.

 

Not even hearing the reply from the room, Morty saw the alien nod his head before opening the door and stepping inside.

 

The room wasn’t anything special, the only difference separating this one from the rest was a secret door that led to a small staircase that opened up to an interrogation room, but the customers wouldn’t know that. It’s not like they’ll be leaving this room to begin with.

 

Keeping his face deadpanned, Morty did a quick sweep of the room, making sure nothing was out of place, before landing his gaze on the man sitting on the red velvet couch that faced a single pole. The man was relaxed, arms resting on the back of the couch, feet crossed, and staring at Morty like he a fresh piece of meat. Forcing himself to not roll his eyes, Morty shut the door behind him, letting the audible click of the lock ring before moving forward.

 

Not knowing any better the man smirked, showing off terribly kempt teeth that made Morty want to cringe. “Oh, gorgeous. I knew you were looking at me. I can’t blame you though, these good looks are just hard to come by now a days.”

 

Morty’s eye twitched. The same line every _fucking_ time somebody falls for his gaze. Coming to stand in front of the man he bends over, face level with the man, staring at his _very common_ looking face, and says, “I want to hear you say the rules first.”

 

The man just grins. “Come on, baby. You can trust me.”

 

Morty just straightens, hands on his hips, eyebrow quirked and waits.

 

He barks a sharp laugh. “Damn baby, if you want me to work for you I guess I can’t complain, as long as I get to see that body in motion again.” Taking one last long, antagonizing look up and down his body (why does he even care I’m in a fucking robe for gods sake) he looks at Morty’s eyes and repeats, “No pictures. No standing. Keep hands to myself. Keep my dick away.”

 

Smiling, Morty moves, letting the robe fall to the floor before bending down again, this time placing his hands on either side of the mans body and leaning in close. “So. What will it be?”

 

He sees the man’s hands clench, restraining from wanting to move to the body hovering right over him. “Oh, baby, whatever you do will be just what I need right now.” Morty has to fight from making a face at the smell of his breath. “But you should start with moving that perfect ass of yours, this is a much better view than the stage.”

 

Morty smirks, standing, turning around to face the pole while musing his hair, swaying his hips a little at the music playing from the speakers. He allows himself one last deep breath before grabbing on to the pole and dancing to a slow and sensual pace.

 

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby. That’s hot.”

 

Morty rolls his eyes, tired of the over used endearment. He looks up to the security camera in the corner, knowing that Rick is watching, and quickly flashes him the finger with a disgusted look on his face, before turning on the pole slowly to face the man again.

 

“Oh, come on, baby. That can’t be all.” The man looks flushed clearly to distracted to see Morty’s bored expression. Lifting his eyes from Morty’s –almost non existent- spandex pants, he looks Morty in the eyes and asks, “What’s your name? You can’t expect me to call you ‘baby’ the whole time.”

 

Smirking, Morty steps closer, settling his legs on either side on the man. “Mmm. I don’t know if that’s fair, you already know one of my names, shouldn't I know one of yours first?”

 

The man looks at the body straddling him. _Caramella Dolce._ Lithe muscles stretching over a beach tanned stomach, accentuated by a brightly colored belly button ring. Clenching his firsts harder he answers, “That’s a fair trade I guess.” He leans his head back, looking up at the boy gracefully swaying his body to the music, hands sexily messing with his hair. “Smith.”

 

At that Morty really chuckles, the sound ringing in the room. He smiles down at the man, carefully leaning over to make the man only see him, holding the needle and syringe behind “Smith’s” head. “That’s a very common name, you know. Almost too common.”

 

Taking a chance, the man slips a hand from the back of the couch, coming to wrap around the young man’s ankle. Morty lets it slide. “Oh yeah? Like John Smith?” The man leans his head up minutely, chapped lips moving closer to soft, plump ones.

 

Morty chuckles again, the man obviously doesn’t know who’s currently grinding on his lap. Morty doesn’t hold it against him though, he’s a very different Morty and therefore easy to slide under the radar. Basically undetectable. It’s obvious now that this guy knows what he’s after. It’s simple: anyone looking for a Rick needs to find their Morty first, that’s the closest they’ll ever get to a Rick. Leaning back to see the entirety of the man’s face, he drops the smile, making his face blank as he says, “More like Morty Smith.” And plunges the needle into the side of his neck, quickly squeezing the narcotic into his blood stream.

 

Morty wants to laugh at the look on the man’s face. “A-a-a-a M-Morty?!” His hands come up to grab at Morty’s neck, but the drug’s fast moving, there’s barely any pressure at all.

 

“Yup.” With an extra pop at the “p”, Morty stands away from the guy, pushing away the hands that are trying to follow. “Thought you had it all figured out, huh?” He glares at the man trying to speak, true anger in his eyes, “This is what you deserve after messing with _my_ Rick,” he adds with a snarl. The man suddenly slumps over, put under by the drug.

 

Morty turns toward the door when he hears two swift knocks, the guard letting him know Rick is outside. He puts on his gown before opening the door wide, letting the guard and Rick step inside.

 

Rick immediately steps up to Morty, grinning wide enough to show his teeth. “Oh, _my god!_ Morty!” He’s laughing now. “That was fucking-fucking amazing, the look on his face!”

 

Rick’s laughter is infectious, Morty’s bent over, head on Rick’s shoulder, clutching his own stomach at how hard he’s laughing. “Oh- _oh, my-my god._ I know! He-he-he- His _face!”_

 

Rick wraps his hands around Morty’s hips bringing him in for a hug, laughing as he places a kiss on his cheek. “ _Fuck!_ I-I-I didn’t think it could get any better after-after you flicked me off. He thought he was so-so fucking smart!” They both continue to laugh, high on the adrenaline rush. When Rick opens his eyes he sees the body still slumped over, the guard waiting patiently on standby. Pushing Morty away, Rick rakes a hand through the think blond curls before muttering a, “Good job.”

 

Morty beams at the compliment, “Aw jeez, ya know. All in a days work, Rick.” He quirks his eyebrow, emphasizing “work”.

 

Rick’s smile drops a tiny bit; maybe that batch of candy did have extra crystals in it. Morty developing an addiction was not in his plan book, but that’s a thought for later. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out another pop, presenting it to Morty whose smile grows even wider. “Yeah-yeah, here y-you go. Now go home you turd, I have work to do.”

 

Morty shrugs, stuffing the pop in his mouth and walking towards the door. At the last second he turns around, and plants another kiss on Rick’s check, “Be careful?”

 

Rick smirks, “When am I not?”

 

With a last chuckle Morty heads out, walking back to the dressing room to change into his sweatpants and hoodie that shield his face from anybody waiting outside. The star female dancer is waiting by his locker, handing over a stuffed paper bag filled with cash. “Thanks, Jaz.”

 

She whips her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. You owe me.”

 

Morty rolls his, physically tired of rolling his eyes. He doesn’t even care about the money. “Yeah, whatever.” He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a tenth of klaxian crystal. “You know-know the deal.”

 

“I know, I didn’t get it from you, boss man.” She grabs the bag, stuffing it into her own. Walking away with a smirk she adds over her shoulder, “See you later, baby boy.”

 

Morty refuses to roll his eyes again at the terrible endearment. After changing he double checks that he has everything, before leaving out the side exit into an alleyway. Checking to make sure no one is hiding in the shadows, he takes a deep breath of the clean ocean air. Letting his fresh high rock waves into his brain, he puts his hood up and takes the first step into the night of Miami.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chappy! 
> 
> I apologize for anyone waiting for an update that doesn't like RickxMorty pairings. I tried to make it middle ground, but I just couldn't. X( It's not smut or anything, but kissing and such. 
> 
> No music in this one but there is more to come. :)
> 
> Also feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes! - I will also be edited some things in the first couple of chapters. The lady who calls Rick's phone in the first chapter won't be asking for Morty, but his stripper name. And the Clubs name is simply going to change to the K-Klub. Plot shit, what can you do? 
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT 07/05/17:::: I've changed up the story line a bit. So I suggest re reading this chapter. Sorry for confusion! To the new people reading, don't worry about it! I'll get my shit together eventually!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

People dodged out of Morty’s way as he stormed down the hallways. With his head held high and a furious glare that could kill, there was no second-guessing that he was in one of his worst moods.

 

As he went up the last set of stairs, he scowled and crossed his arms impatiently as the remaining door scanned his body before it swung up with a click. He continued his angry trek, coming at last to the final door that he slammed open before marching his way over to the desk that Rick was currently sitting at, looking through paper work, not even glancing at Morty.

 

Even more pissed off at the lack on acknowledgement, Morty released a breath through his nose. “What the fuck is this?”

 

Rick only glanced up, staring at the small device in Morty’s hand before scoffing. “Morty. I know you’re more beauty than brains, which I’m not complaining about don’t get me wrong, but this is pretty-pretty stupid Morty. Stupider than usual, Morty. Like, I-I-I can’t even think of a stupider moment-”

 

Morty huffed again, straightening and puffing himself up, looking down at Rick before interrupting.“ Don't-don't try to _deter_ me- _”_

“Oh-that’s a-that’s a pretty smart word, Morty-“

 

“I know _what_ it is! What I want to know, _Rick,”_ Morty threw the little device on the desk, “is why these are in the locker rooms. _Everywhere_ in the locker rooms.”

 

Rick rolled his eyes and dropped the files on his desk as the little camera rolled around. He looked up at the angry figure before him, eyes quickly roving over the lithe body dressed in a simple tank and sweats, make up painted on with perfection but the hair still in a messy bun. He couldn’t help but stare at the way Morty’s lips pouted, before looking at the angry flush on his cheeks, but the affect was ruined at the deadly glare that was being leveled at him. “Calm your fucking tits, _Morty._ It-it-it’s not like it’s for sneaking a _peak_ or some stupid shit you probably think it’s for.”

 

Morty’s jaw dropped at the audacity. “St-st- _stupid_? This-this isn’t about being stupid, Rick! We agreed-“

 

“Yeah, yeah, we ‘agreed’.” Rick started putting his paperwork away, slamming the drawers of his desk as he went. “But that was _before_ I got the tip off from the guy in our fucking basement that there is someone else here feeding information to the Federation!”

 

Morty watched as Rick abused the cabinets of the desk before pulling out a smoke and lighting it with an satisfied huff. Watching the calming green smoke fly past Rick’s lips, his anger ebbed away at the realization of what Rick said. “But-but we tried to keep the dancers out of this. I-I-I don’t see how they should have their privacy violated.”

 

Rick heaved out a breath of smoke, relaxing back in his chair as he answered, “Tough shit, Morty. People talk. Especially in a place like this. It was only a matter of time before something like this happening.” Taking another puff Rick sat back in his chair. “So you got to keep your shit together, Morty. These people aren't your ‘friends’ or ‘co-workers’ any-anymore. This is all going to go to shit if we don’t stay ahead of the game.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Morty stepped around the desk and sat on Rick’s knee, taking the smoke from his fingers before taking a deep breath of the calming alien drugs, feeling his pulse slow down as the smooth smoke filled his lungs and a hand started rubbing up and down his spine. “So-so what now? We can’t just interrogate everybody.”

 

Rick shrugged, pulling Morty into him while taking the cig back, “Don't-don’t worry, babe. This isn’t grandpa’s first time dealing with these fuckers.” Wrapping his arm around the small waist and breathing out more of the green smoke he continued. “Just don’t be an idiot, _Morty._ ”

 

Morty elbowed Rick in the ribs. “Shut _up._ I’m not a _stupid_ Morty.”

 

Rick grunted at the press on his ribs, reaching his hand up to the top of Morty’s head and lightly pulling on the messy bun.

 

Morty went with the motion, letting Rick guide his head until it was off his shoulder and turned to face him, noses touching and lips brushing as the close proximity. “I have a show to get ready for, and I don’t want to have to paint my face again.” He couldn’t help but relax into the warmth of Rick though, feeling immensely safe and warm with the drugs and in the arms of the person he trusted most in the universe.

 

Rick chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He closed the little distance between them, moving his lips with Morty’s in a soft, placid pace.

 

It was a gentle motion, something that made Morty’s head float and heart sore. He pressed back against Rick, letting the barest hint of tongue slip out of his mouth to brush along Rick’s lip.

 

Rick gasped at the wet glide of Morty’s tongue, bringing his other hand up to land on Morty’s hip, pulling him until Morty was straddling Rick, leaning over him so that the chair they were sitting in was leaning back.

 

Morty pushed against Rick, bringing his chest down to touch the older man’s and picked up the pace, turning the kiss from something soft to something rough, moaning into the feel of Rick gliding his tongue against Morty’s.

 

With one final hard press of his lips, Morty wove his fingers into Rick’s hair, relishing in the deep groan from the body underneath him before pulling back up for air, leaning his forehead against Rick’s. “See ya later, old man.” Morty planted a kiss on Rick’s cheek before unraveling himself from the pair of long arms wrapped around him.

 

Rick sigh, watching as the boy stood and straightened his clothes. “Fucking tease.”

 

Morty rolled his eyes before leaning back down, pressing his lips to Rick’s ear and asked in a hush whisper, “Come home with me tonight?”

 

Rick bit down on Morty’s shoulder, cause Morty to stumble at the sudden jelly feeling in his legs and let out a breathy moan. “Baby, you know I’ll be doing more than just coming tonight.”

 

Morty laughed at the terrible joke, shaking his head as he got up again. “Stick to dealing drugs, old man.”

 

Rick smiled, slapping Morty’s ass as he turned away and laughed at the yelp. “Don’t ham it up too much out there tonight, you know I don’t like sharing.”

 

Morty was already walking towards the door, turning around as his hand reached the knob. “Maybe you should give me the next couple of days of then.” With a final wink, he left, leaving Rick scoffing at the request.

 

 

 

Morty might be the star male of their club, but fuck it if he didn't know how to persuade Rick to give him a day off. It was a win-win situation. More like a win- _win_ win because while Rick got his rocks off the night before, Morty got that _plus_ a day off.

 

So it was the next day that Morty found himself lying on the beach, toes dipping into the sand as he soaked up the sun, pink sunglasses covering his closed eyes. It was quiet, only the soft call of the gulls over head and the gentle waves lapping against the shore. It was peaceful, and Morty will never go a day where he wasn’t grateful that Rick got them a cottage on the shore, the only company the neighbors who were old and never bothered them except to give him food because he looked so young and skinny.

 

It was far better than having to sun bathe on a tourist-populated beach when they first moved down, with people ogling him and catcalling and the blatant attempts at hook ups. He may work at a dance club and strip occasionally, but _fuck_. He just wants to lie on the beach. And Rick was getting tired of either having to pick up Morty from beach security for getting in a fight or to him coming home with shiners on his cheeks and black eyes.

 

Usually Morty would be napping right now (damn the consequences of sunburn) but he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder to the club. More specifically, the drugring half of it. Of course he believes Rick, they’ve had rats in the club before, and people who talk too much, workers whom get jealous and want a bigger cut of pay, or someone who gets too curious. It happens often, but there were never issues with the Federation. Well, here _were_ issues with the Federation, but they were able to stay well hidden until now.

 

They both knew the risks when starting the business. Well, more like _Rick_ knew the risks and Morty would do anything for Rick, but Morty was suddenly struck with determination to get to the bottom of this. He would really have to keep an eye out for anything suspicious at all. He already had one home taken away from him, there was no way in hell he was going to stand by and let all he had left be taken away from him.

 

His life might not be perfect, but he did what he loved for work -dancing that is, not stripping - and it didn’t _really_ matter that Rick was a drug lord. Morty was happy to help with what he could because Rick was providing for him, and for that he was thankful.

 

It was just then a shadow fell over Morty, blocking all sun and leaving his skin slightly colder than it just was. _Think of the devil and he shall appear._ Opening his eyes Morty glares at Rick through matching sunglasses “You’re blocking the sun.”

 

Rick rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Come on. We have to check on something.”

 

Morty groans as he gets up. Or course it would have to be on his day off.

 

 

 

 

Rick flies the spaceship through the portal and lands in the carefully constructed hiding spot on the planet. Morty drops his jaw and whips around to face Rick. “Seriously? You _know_ the Federation is getting closer and you-you take us here? Where you get _Kalaxian Crystal?”_

“Just.-Just shut up, Morty. I-I-It’s fine.” Rick gets out of the ship, not even bothering to shut the door. “Just got to check on something real quick.”

 

Morty angrily, but quietly, gets out and follows Rick and whispers. “Oh yeah, sure, just drag me along even though there could be Federation soldiers scourging this place.”

Rick doesn’t even break stride. “ _Can it_. You know I would be caught if I didn’t have your brain waves. Since this place is more likely being watched I couldn’t chance it.”

 

“More- _More likely-“_ Morty’s gives Rick an incredulous look and scoffs. “Couldn’t _chance_ it- I’m-I’m a goddamn _princess-“_

 

“Raunchiest princess I’ve seen-“

 

Morty ignores the remark. “I’m useless out here _Rick._ What do you want me to do? Seduce a _gromflomite?_ They’re _asexu-“_ He’s cut off when Rick covers his mouth with his hands, shushing him as he crouches and looks out of the thick foliage they were walking in. Morty follows his lead, pressing up next to Rick and looking out into the clearing surrounded by bright color hues and seeing a wooden hut. The wooden hut that Rick’s Meeseeks stayed at while they were doing the job of collecting the Krystal. It was a good system. The hut itself contained a Meeseeks box that was automatically pressed when the last Meeseeks came back with it’s haul of drugs, and an automated recording would play that was to instruct the Meeseeks of it’s job. Easy because it was automatic, safe because it didn’t involve Rick having to actually be there in person, brownie points because it was free.

 

But by the broken window and the door blown off its hinges, it was obvious what happened.

 

“Shit, Rick.”

 

Rick handed Morty a gun and stood up, taking a step forward.

 

Morty’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me!?” He harshly whispered, “We have to _go.”_

 

But Rick kept walking, jaw locked and a determined look in his gaze. Morty knew Rick inside and out, and he knew that look to be one of hard determination. Nobody messed with his Rick, and not going to sit like the fucking _princess_ he truly was, Morty chased behind Rick, body lowered as he held the gun by his side.

 

When they reached the hut’s front door Rick raised the gun in front of him and took slow steps into the building, turning his head in both directions and looking around. Morty followed close behind, practically mimicking Rick’s movements, albeit with a more anxious look on his face.

 

Once fully in the building Rick let out a frustrated groan, “God _dammit.”_

 

Morty jumped at Rick’s sudden movement, following him to the hatch that lead down to the storage space. He watched as Rick roughly opened the hatch and peered down into the lit area.

 

Nothing.

 

Morty stood in place and looked around the hut while Rick stormed around and cursed up a storm. The place was obviously ransacked, the meeseeks box was missing as was the latest hull of drugs, but there wasn’t any indication of it being the Federation. No cameras, no traps, nothing. But on a planet only inhabited by stupid monsters, who else could it be?

 

Morty walked over to the far window, carefully treading over the shattered glass, wondering why the glass was even shattered. There wasn’t anyone to really put up a fight with.

 

He was inspecting the windowpane when out of the corner of his eye something glistened. He peered out into the forest when it happened again, but this time the shine stayed, sun reflecting off the metal that was steady.

 

Morty realized too late, screaming out Rick’s name as he dropped to the floor, the sounds of a laser echoing through the forest as the rays lit up the room and flew overhead.

 

“What the fuck _what the hell-“_ Morty pressed himself close to the floor, watching as Rick did that same, who was cursing just as Morty.

 

“Morty, what the _fuck_ did you do?!”

 

“Me?! I didn’t do anything! You’re-you’re the one who brought me here, dick!” Suddenly the lasers stopped, and Morty held his breath as Rick slowly started to crawl over to him.

 

“Just-just keep _shutting up.”_ Rick harshly whispered as he slowly crouched next to the window, before peering out it with his gun first.

 

Morty winced as one last laser fired from Rick’s gun. There was a pained yelp has he hit the target and the sound of the body dropping to the ground. When no more sounds where to be heard, Morty slowly started to sit up, trying to catch his breath, but hissed in pain as he lifted himself with his arms. “Ow, _shit-“_

 

Morty looking down his arm and watched as blood ran freely down it. He was shot. His hair was soaked in the red liquid, and pulling it back slowly with a wince he was grateful to see it was just a graze across his shoulder. A deep one, but a graze nonetheless.

 

“Jesus, fuck.” Rick looked back at Morty at his exclamation and quickly pulled the boy towards him and away from the window.

 

Morty sat next to Rick, keeping his hair out of the way while Rick inspected it, grimacing at the probing. “I'm fine, it’s just the skin.”

 

Rick grunted and rifled through the pockets of his pink coat, pulling out some gauze. “Yeah, it’s just the skin but it’s deep. It’ll-It’ll probably scar.”

 

Morty thumped his head against the wall. _Great._ Just _great._ He was already thinking about how he was going to have hide it.

 

After his arm was messily wrapped he sat there while Rick went to check on the person or _thing_ that he shot. It was only a few tense moments before Rick came back and immediately helped Morty up before hurriedly leading them back to the ship. “What was it?”

 

“Gromflomite.”

 

Morty let out a huff as he got in the ship. Suddenly the future didn’t look so bright.

 

 

 

 

It was later that night and Morty was sitting on the floor in the living room, head up and watching YouTube pole dancing routines on the TV while Rick was behind him changing his bandages and putting a new ointment on.

 

After they got home from the failed adventure they didn’t talk, both being stubborn in their own ways. Morty was furious at the fact that Rick brought him into a dangerous situation unknowingly. His quietness was also a combination of _I told you so_ because Morty _knew_ it was a bad idea. The only perk to being shot was Rick letting him have free rain of his K-lax pops to help with the pain, so Morty was flying a high and didn’t plan on coming down anytime soon.

 

But as the day bled into night Morty started finding Rick’s quietness uneasy. Rick was never quiet, at least not like this. Sure Morty could go a day without hearing Rick’s voice if he was in his office working on science stuff, but this was different.

 

It wasn’t until Rick sat down behind Morty, going to clean his arm that Morty understood. And after Rick finished and tied the bandage off Morty scooted back and pressed up against him, relishing in the feeling as Rick wrapped his arms around Morty’s middle and pulled, tucking his head into his hair.

 

The sat there, just breathing each other in when Rick finally spoke up. “I’m sorry.”

 

Morty sighed. “It’s-it’s fine.”

 

“No, it’s _not-_ “

 

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fine, okay? You _know_ the Federation is looking for you. It was obvious they were there, but you just took me in there anyway, like you don’t give a shit.” Morty felt Rick tense, and let out a heavy sigh before relaxing fully into Rick’s arms. “It’s not okay, but it doesn’t matter right now. We’re okay.” Morty turned his head so his lips were pressing against Rick’s cheek, wanting the tension to leave his body. “So-so stop doing this.”

 

When the relaxation didn’t come Morty pulled back and saw Rick’s hardened gaze staring at nothing, determination set in his jaw. “Come on, man. Just chill, relax. You’re killing my buzz.”

 

Rick’s breath hitched before he snorted. “Well I’m really going to _kill your buzz_ after what I have to say next.”

 

Morty froze, “Um. Okay. What are you going to say next?”

 

Rick leaned away from Morty, giving Morty the chance to flip around and face Rick crossed legged. Looking at the confused look in Morty’s _blue_ tinted eyes Rick went on. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. I’m sending you back to you home. Back to your parents.”

 

Morty’s eyes widened, in disbelief of what he just heard. “Um, sorry, what? Did I hear your right? You’re sending me _home?”_ Morty was well past the point of denial at this point, suddenly angry at what Rick was saying. “Excuse me? I-I-I think this _is_ my home. You know, the one we made when we got _kicked out_ of their house?”

 

Morty stood pacing the room muttering under his breath and messing with his hair before he turned back to Rick, who was calmly looking back at him from the floor. “What the _fuck?!_ How are you just sitting there?! What do you mean you’re ‘sending me back’?”

 

Rick stood with a grunt, “It means what it means. With the Federation on my trail I need to keep you safe, and I failed at that today, so obviously I’m not fit enough to _do that.”_

“I-I-I-I thought we just cleared this up! It’s not even _bad._ It was an accident!”

 

“Yeah, _Morty._ An accident that I could have prevented and I didn’t because I’m too stubborn!” Rick stormed into the kitchen, “Knowing my luck, the next time you’re fucking head will be obliterated!”

 

Morty followed Rick into the kitchen. “Well I’m stubborn too and I’m not going anywhere! You can’t just _make_ me up and move back. W-w-we’re supposed to be in this together! I’m _your_ shield! I refuse!”

 

Rick set the liquor bottle he just got down and looked at Morty. “Listen. This is _real_ , Morty. They obviously have a-a-a lead on me and I’m not putting you in that kind of danger. At this point, I could care less what you want. So continue being a piss ant about this, but I’m not changing my mind!”

 

Morty didn’t know what to say. He just stood there, looking at Rick, barely even noticing the very tired look on his face. He’s not even sure how long he stood there, just processing what was happening. Wasn’t it just this morning that Morty was just lying in the backyard reflecting on his life here? Wasn’t this the place he wanted to be forever? With _his_ Rick?

 

It was when the tears started streaming down his face that he finally snapped out of it. He looked Rick dead in the eyes and through his sore throat cracked the most malice, “Fuck you,” that he could before turning around and stomping through the house.

 

Rick watched as the boy went, heaving a deep sigh and rubbing his face at how weary he felt. Most Rick’s wouldn’t have given a lasting glance at a pissed off Morty; probably would just knock them out to stop the headache or just tune them out and not gave a shit. A majority wouldn’t even care if their Morty was killed, they could just get a new one. It was a Rick standard.

 

But this Rick _did_ give a shit.

 

He’s still never been able to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It doesn’t help that Ricks and Mortys like the two of them were insanely rare, or well hidden and separated from everybody else. Away form the federation and living without the trouble, just like them. It was highly frowned upon so it never surprised Rick that he never met another like them.

 

He pulls out his phone, pulling up the contacts that he’s kept all these years but never got in contact with. He only hesitates slightly, feeling a pang in his chest as he remembers the tears rolling down Morty’s face and the broken sob, before picking a contact and calling.

 

It rings a few times before there’s a click and a confused, “Um. Grandpa Rick?”

 

Rick tries to smile but know it won’t come across, “Yeah, hey kiddo. How’s it going?” Summer would be the best bet at keeping Morty safe. He knew they stayed in contact with each other over the years.

 

There’s a pause. “Fine, I guess.” Another pause. “Is Morty okay?”

 

Rick takes a deep breath before trudging along. “Yeah, about that…”

 

 

 

 

 

The halls were brightly lit, illuminating the sterile floor tiles and white walls. Uniformed gromflomites marched on each side of the halls organized and orderly, their metal laser guns shinning in the florescent lighting.

 

It was easy to stick out if you weren't one of the many soldiers in uniform, causing heads to turn in curiosity or confusion, many soldiers hitching their weapons up higher with the instinct of a threat.

 

Jaz Miller just kept walking.

 

Head held high, she passed the eye wavering soldiers who were no doubt looking at the skimpy clothes she was wearing. She didn’t blame them, it’s not everyday these soldiers see a human stripper walking in their halls with a look that gave off more purpose than the ones currently milling around to past time.

As she neared her destination, she clenched her fists, one squeezing the small bag that currently held the most _vial_ substance in the universe, and ironically, the single most important thing to Jaz’s future and career. It still had to be tested, but judging by the bright pick hue of the powder there was no doubt that this was what they had been searching for: Klaxian Crystal.

 

“State your business.”

 

Reaching her destination, she stopped just feet from the gromflomite guards that flanked either side of the door. “Agent Jaz Miller. Station: Earth. Reporting on mission E-275; The Klaxian Drug Ring.”

 

Jaz waited as one of the soldiers turned towards the intercom. “Sir? Mission E-275 requesting report.”

 

A electronic buzz rung through the silence. “Bring her in.”

 

Jazz stepped forward as the door opened, following the soldier that escorted her inside, stopping just in front of the desk that took up the expanse of the room. “Sir.” She stood tall, placing the bag of the powder on the desk. “I believe I’ve found the source of the Klaxian crystal distribution.”

 

The captain took the bag, inspecting it closely before nodding in approval. “This looks like it checks out, where was it found?”

 

“On planet Earth, in a place called Miami, Florida. The club I have been working undercover at has a worker that seems to have a regular supply, but from whom I can’t say just yet.” When the captain didn’t say anything right away Jaz spoke up again, “Sir. This place is…weird.”

 

“Weird how so?”

 

“Aliens and humans attend the club, but with the amount of drugs in their systems I doubt the humans even recognize the presence of aliens. There are aliens guards that seem to be in on the drug ring, even a gromflomite. But for the amount of guards present I haven’t seen any person that seems to be the leader.”

 

The captain hummed, stroking his chin in thought. “And you believe this is the source? Not just some side shop on a different planet?”

 

Jaz nodded, “Yes, sir. I’ve seen customers with the actual crystal in its purest form. And to top it all off, ever since Agent Smith went MIA after his undercover mission security cameras have been placed throughout the building.”

 

The captain pressed his fingers together, intrigued. “Interesting. Smith on high level security?”

 

Another nod. “Yes, sir.”

 

With a final thought the captain stood. “Thank you, Agent Miller. Continue your undercover work at this club. Get any information you can.” The captain watched as the agent nodded once more, before turning and walking out, doors closing behind her.

 

“What are you thinking, sir?” The foot soldier remained behind awaiting further orders.

 

The captain walked to the other side of the room, pulling out a file from the double locked case that read “Top Level Investigations”. Turning back towards his desk he threw it down, opening the papers to find the picture of one of the most wanted beings in the galaxy.

 

Looking down at the aged picture, the captain read over the papers, refreshing himself with the identity of the notorious Rick Sanchez. “What I’m thinking, solider, is that it might be finally time to call up some old friends of ours.”

 

The solider blinked. “Um, what old friends? Sir?”

 

The captain handed the solider a slip of paper, coordinates. “Prepare a high security trip for me and my best guards. We’re taking a trip.”

 

The solider took the slip, confused at the coordinates that had one too many numbers. “A trip to where, sir?”

 

“A trip that might be one of the most dangerous things you’ve ever done, and that includes becoming a foot solider for me.” Rounding his desk, the captain pulled out the many weapons in the drawers, attaching each to some part of his uniform. “We’re taking a trip to visit the Council of Ricks.”

 


End file.
